


Have You Seen Daddy?

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018), Both character's are 'dead' so yeet, Cassie turns to dust, Fix-It, Fluff, Friendship, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Infinity War, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sad, Soul world, and meets Peter Parker, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-07-24 14:24:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16176905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: As if a miracle, Peter collides with another lost soul after fading to dust, and he has to be strong to help the little girl who won't stop crying for her father.He just hopes that for her sake, she didn't hear him screaming for his.





	Have You Seen Daddy?

The worst thing about it, was he couldn't really feel anything. Not properly.

 _Numb._ All he felt was nothing. Nothing made contact with the ground, there was no force on his feet as he walked around the vast space of absolutely nothing. He couldn't feel his hands on his face. Nothing. His arms around his stomach. Nothing. Nothing

He'd rather have felt the worst pain in the world. 

He looked transparent. Sometimes parts of him looked as if they were shifting and moving- or maybe it was the trick of the blinding orange light that was so abnormally bright. It was the worst thing to Peter- because no matter how many times me told himself that it was a dream, the memory of the sensation of his flesh ripping into pieces and ceasing to exist was too real. It was so _fucking real._ He knew, if that really did happen- that whatever he was- he wasn't Peter anymore. He was gone. 

But it felt so much like a dream. It was if everything he thought, everything he felt was muted to the lowest volume. Like he was sleeping, but he'd been sleeping for way too long. The emotion of dread that hurt like ever loving hell told him that no- it was probably all real. Thanos probably did it. He saw the Guardians fade away- what was so unrealistic about him fading too?

The first few days (maybe it was hours. Or weeks. Or months) he cried a lot. Not at first. He wasn't the crying type. 

Well. Maybe that was a lie.

He cried when he ran, and couldn't find anything. After he'd shouted for someone and no-one replied. He cried for May, he cried for Ned. He cried for Ben. And then, for Tony. He was confused, he knew he shouldn't be- he was an Avenger, for Christ's sake- but nothing could stop his body (not body?) from shaking and mouth from crying out into nothing. He couldn't feel physically- but he saw himself practically vibrating, his hands shaking so hard he thought he might pass out. It was insane. It was all insane. It couldn't be real.

He'd started to reason with himself a long time after, where he realised Tony could have faded too. Something stirred inside him. It hurt his heart to think about it- but it would mean he'd be somewhere in the empty abyss of weird orange light. Peter could find him- and he wouldn't need to be alone. 

The vast amount of time that spun by was filled with doubt. But the more and more Peter thought about Tony, the fear, the way he grabbed the man, wrapping his arms around him and feeling him grab back- the more he needed him. He needed to feel again. He needed someone to touch, someone to hold. To be held by. He felt like a stupid child. But if he couldn't find Tony, then what was the point?

He was his last hope. He could still be somewhere.

So he shouted. He screamed, he cried when it got too much. There must be other people where he was- possibly physics just didn't exist and it was actually impossible to access anyone else at all. It would make sense. He'd seen no-one at all.

When he called, he'd started with 'Mr Stark' before realising he sounded annoying and whiny. By the time he switched to 'Tony', his voice was cracking just by raising his voice a little. 

Skip through an estimate of 900 hours, he couldn't scream anymore. He'd walked for a long time. He'd ran, too. No concept of destination or travel seemed to exist, as he was constantly stuck in the same orange plane of nothing.

 

So he sat. And that's where he gave up.

 

 

He looked up again hundreds of hours later, ready to see Tony finally with him.

To have found him.

To have saved him.

It wasn't him- but it was someone.

Peter didn't feel his heart catch in his throat, but he saw his hands shaking again and felt the sudden rush of relief run through his mind.

_Someone was walking towards him._

He stood, watching with hope as someone broke through the mist and came into clear view. A voice travelled- a soft, afraid voice that reminded Peter of a child's.

It made sense, it turned out. It wasn't Tony. Not at all. But it was a girl. Dark chocolatey brown hair that was almost down to her hips, wide eyes and small pink cheeks streaked with tears. She wore a white t-shirt with a yellow flower, a small pair of jeans and blue trainers with Velcro straps. As she came closer, she only looked more panicked. She looked slightly transparent. Her body flickered and moved, like Peter's. 

Peter walked to meet her in the middle. Someone. Not Tony- but someone. He'd found someone. 

She looked around 11. Maybe 10. She was short, barely passing Peter's stomach and he looked down at her as she stopped in front of him, staring up with large, brown eyes.

"My dad? Have you seen my dad?"

Peter could have wept for her. 

He felt himself well up with emotion as he saw the fear in her eyes and the tears roll down her cheeks. He was glad he'd stopped crying.

"No," He whispered, hearing how wrecked his voice sounded. 

_Keep it together. For the kid. For the kid._

"Mummy? Have you seen mummy?"

She was very pretty, very sweet. She spoke loudly, with confidence and persistence, though her bottom lip trembled all the same. 

Peter swallowed a stone before shaking his head slowly.

"I haven't. I'm sorry, I am," he murmured, looking down at her with pity. 

The girl just blinked. She sniffed, scuffing her shoe on the floor and balling her hands into fists.

"I can't feel anything," she said after a moment of Peter just watching her. He felt bad. He felt relief he'd actually found someone- but there was nothing he could do.

"Me neither," he said simply. His shoulders drooped. He lowered himself to the floor, mainly because he was fucking exhausted. But partly to un-intimidate the girl.

She watched Peter curiously before sitting by him, legs crossed.

"What's your name?"

"Peter," Peter said. 

"I'm Cassie," Cassie said. 

Peter nodded.

And that was it.

Inwardly he cursed himself for not having the audacity to comfort a child. But he couldn't bring himself to. What could he do? He couldn't fix anything. He couldn't even fix himself. If he couldn't function without Tony then how could he try to function as a guardian for the little girl?

She obviously wasn't stupid. He could tell that much just by the way she sat and sniffled, watching him out of the corner of her eye. He felt a little naked, just exposed to the prying eyes of this kid- but he didn't really mind as much as he should have. He looked like a mess- he knew that, but there was nothing that could be done to help it.

He finally sidled a little sideways to sit closer to Cassie. She glitches and fazed, leaving ghostly hazes wherever she moved. 

She smiled a small smile, a tear gently rolling down her cheek.

"You were shouting. Were you looking for someone too?"

"Yes," he replied, voice barely a whisper. "How old are you.?" Change the subject, quick.

"I'm 10," Cassie declared, sitting up a little straighter. "I'm 11 in a few months."

"Wow. That's pretty old," Peter nodded trying his best to look impressed and intrigued with all the guilt and fear weighing on his heart. Cassie just shrugged.

"Not as old as _you._ You're older. How old are you?"

_18 this year._

_If I weren't dead._

"I'm 17," he said quickly.

"See? You're old."

"I'm only 6 years older than you," he quipped back. "I'm not that old."

Cassie seemed to ponder on this for a moment. Her eyes gazed around the open space before landing back on Peter with a bright expression.

"-but you're nearly an adult."

That was hard to believe.

"Yeah. Yeah, I suppose I am," he mused. 

"Do you live with your parents?"

"Not really," he started, slowly. My parents died when I was very little. I live with my aunt, so its kind of the same sort of thing."

He wasn't sure if he fully expected Cassie to understand or not, and hoped she wouldn't ask too much deeper into his personal life. But she nodded wisely.

"I don't live with my parents either. I live with them separately, so when I'm with mummy I'm also with my step dad. He's okay. But I wish we could all live together. I love daddy too."

The slightly crestfallen expression on her small features made Peter's heart twinge. Mainly because no matter her living arrangements- he was pretty sure they were both dead. So in the end, it wouldn't matter anyway.

He sucked in a breath, trying to force a comforting smile. 

"I'm sorry, Cassie. Maybe it'll be different soon."

"Yeah."

The stretch of silence that fell over them was comfortable. Maybe it was the company Peter hadn't realised he craved that made him feel so at ease. Knowing he wasn't the only one did wonders on lessening the blow. 

Not too while after conversation had died, Cassie's curious tone broke the atmosphere again.

"Who's Tony?"

Peter felt himself tense all over again. A coldness creeped into his head- though physically, he couldn't really feel it at all.

He turned to look at the girl, who waited for her answer with doubtful, careful eyes.

He didn't really expect himself to answer, but somehow the youthful curious gaze edged him on slightly.

"He's... Someone I'm looking for."

Cassie nodded.

"Is he your dad?"

Peter froze for a moment.

Well, no.

That was the easy answer. No, Tony was not Peter's dad. Even the thought of it was weird. Successful, clever, funny, attractive Tony Stark, fathering a poor kid from Queens. It wasn't right. Tony had so much more on his plate than Peter Parker. Peter was just a sad, neglected teenager who idolised Iron Man like a five year old. He almost laughed. To think that Peter would ever be good enough to be his son. To think that one day, Peter may have been an Avenger. When he couldn't even save himself. 

He curled his fingers tighter around his knees. 

No matter what Tony wanted, Peter knew what he felt, no matter how Tony would disapprove. He was sure he'd do anything at all if it meant seeing Tony again, to hug him, to spend even a fraction of time with him again. 

It may have been utterly stupid, but he realised that to him, it really wasn't. It was simple. 

"Yeah," he mumbled in reply, eyes glassy. "Yeah, I suppose he is."

It was a long time before Peter focused back in on reality, feeling Cassie's hand scrape his shoulder.

"Shall we go and find our dads?"

The hand was so small. Her face was so hopeful. It carried the hope for both of them all at once, even though Peter didn't have it.

With a shuddering breath, he turned to take the small hand in his own, nodding with a new found confidence.

"Yes. Let's go."

If not for him, for Cassie, and her heart of gold.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any spelling mistakes in this! I watched Ant-Man and the Wasp again and I was worrying about Cassie and if she survived. I thought this was a sweet idea ❤ leave your criticism below, I love reading comments, I hope this wasn't too angsty :')


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